


An Empress and Her Fool

by Felle_DesignWorks (Felle)



Category: Persona 5
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-23 03:39:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17072804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felle/pseuds/Felle_DesignWorks
Summary: One more couple among thousands wandering the streets on Christmas Eve.





	An Empress and Her Fool

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DJ_Ethan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DJ_Ethan/gifts).



> DJ_Ethan, you were my secret santa this year! I hope you enjoy this Harushu fluffery.

_That sounds lovely._

Haru looked down at her phone and Akira’s response to her invitation as she sat on one of the retaining walls outside Shibuya Station. She shivered and shrank further into her coat. Snow on Christmas Eve in Tokyo, it was almost too perfectly poetic. But Haru was willing to accept some contrivance if it meant she got to spend the evening with her boyfriend, strolling the streets like all the couples passing her by.

She was trying to catch a snowflake in her hand when she saw him coming around the corner, shoulders slightly hunched, hood up to keep from attracting attention. Haru hopped down from the wall and hurried to him, making him tense before he recognized her. Akira untucked one hand from his pocket and took hers, threading their fingers together as they pressed up to one another for warmth. His outfit seemed so thin and insubstantial for the weather, but that was just the way he always was. “Hey again.”

“Good evening,” Haru said, and let him guide her away from the station. “Shall we go anywhere particular?”

He thought for a moment. “How about Yoyogi Park? It has to look nice with the snow still falling.”

“Perfect.”

Haru held Akira’s arm in hers as they started in that direction. It was too close to consider taking the subway, and surely the shops along the way would be decorated for the season. Besides, she would be happy not to have to descend into the subway for quite a while yet. They waited at a crosswalk in a sea of couples, so dense that there was no way for them to look out of place. Haru reached up and tugged Akira’s hood down, exposing his mop of dark hair with one arm of his glasses disappearing into the locks. He went to pull it up out of reflex, then stopped, and spared her a smile before the signal changed.

As she’d guessed, most of the buildings they passed on the main streets had strung up lights and garlands for people to stop and look at. Perhaps it was a bit childish of her, but Haru hurried them from storefront to storefront, marveling at the decorations with Akira at her side. Even the little airsoft shop in the alley had put up a single string of white lights on their signage, though her boyfriend seemed too preoccupied with an empty corner of the alley, near the trash bins. “Is something wrong?” Haru asked, squeezing his arm to get his attention.

“No, I…I thought I saw something there.”

One of the bags on the ground _was_ shaped rather like a cat, she saw. Some wet heat pricked at the corners of her eyes. If losing Morgana was hard on her, she could only imagine how Akira felt. All she could do was steer him back to the main street that led to the park, enjoying the decorations and melting into the crowd once more.

Yoyogi Park was every bit as starkly beautiful as she had imagined on the way over, with rows and rows of bare trees under a dusting of what little snow was sticking. Plenty of other people seemed to have the same idea as Akira, and they ended up sharing one of the footpaths with a number of couples who had come to see the snow.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Haru asked as they rounded a corner and took a fork in the path toward some evergreens. “After all _that_ today, and here we are, doing the same thing as all the others who aren’t any the wiser about it.”

Akira made a little sound of acknowledgment, then shrugged. “I think this is exactly what we did it all for. Peace, freedom…getting to be regular people again. I’ll never regret the things we did and the people we helped, but—the quiet afterward is what it was all for.”

“You don’t sound all that enthused about winning your freedom.”

He stiffened beside her, almost shrinking into his jacket, and became very interested in the iron-gray clouds in the sky. “Just tired, I guess. That last attack really took it out of me.”

Haru frowned. Something in his voice told her he wasn’t being forthcoming, but he had every right to be exhausted. Deicide was tiring work. She tightened her grip on his arm and leaned into his shoulder. “I don’t want to keep you out if you need your rest, we can go back to Leblanc if you like. I’ll make you some coffee. Don’t strain yourself on my account.”

“No, I…let’s do what you want. Christmas Eve only comes around once a year, after all.”

Little flecks of snow fell into her hair as they went deeper into the park, looking at the light displays that had been put up along the paths. Endless patterns of red and green winked in and out of existence on either side of them, keeping the walkway illuminated while the rest of the world grew dark around them. Once a deer skittered onto the path in front of them, terribly confused, but ran off before Haru could get any closer.

Their route eventually brought them out of the park and back into the city proper. With the sun fully set and the harshest of the weather rolling in, they drifted toward the station, crunching snow underfoot as it began to accumulate on the street and sidewalks. “Can I interest you in a nightcap?” Akira asked when they approached the point where they would diverge if they were both going home. “I was trying out a new recipe when I was cooped up in there all day.”

“I’d love to see what you’ve come up with.”

Despite going out of his way to make sure their night didn’t end, Akira seemed to grow sullen on the train to Yongen, as if a melancholy had descended on him the instant the doors closed. They were packed in too tight to have anything resembling a private conversation, leaving Haru to do little but lean into his chest and let him hold her.

His neighborhood had none of the bustle of Shibuya, and the difference once they stepped out of the station was so stark that for a moment Haru wondered if it was still the same city at all. Between the old buildings and the quiet backstreets sparsely lined with people watching the snow, Yongen seemed more like some of the sleepy vacation towns up north she used to summer at with her family.

A train rolled through the station below them and shattered the illusion. Haru shook her head clear and clung tighter to Akira’s arm. Perhaps it was juvenile, but she couldn’t find the wherewithal to care.

“Looks like the shop is still open,” Akira said as they rounded the corner to Leblanc. Indeed, the lights inside were still on, and the sign on the door hadn’t yet been flipped. A flush of embarrassment raced through Haru. It was one thing to sneak into a closed restaurant, quite another to have to run a gauntlet of curious gazes. She squared her shoulders and followed Akira inside.

It was open, but the only occupants seemed to be Sakura and Futaba, picking at plates of curry at the counter. Haru sighed in relief. Akira shut the door behind them and made the bell chime again. “I’m home,” he said, and tucked one hand into the small of Haru’s back. A tiny gesture, protective, a little possessive. She didn’t hate it. “No turkey dinner tonight, huh?”

Sakura shrugged with one shoulder. “Shops were all sold out by the time I had a break here.” He looked over at them for the first time and straightened up. “Oh, Okumura- _san_. Hello.”

“Good evening,” Haru said with a bow.

It didn’t take more than a few subtle looks between him and Akira to intimate that they wanted the restaurant for themselves, thankfully. “Ah, Futaba, why don’t we go over to the house to finish this? I know how sleepy you get after a full plate, and I’d rather not have to carry you.”

“Nope. Comfy.”

Haru wondered how comfortable she could really be, squatting on the chair with her legs hunched up to her chest as she was. “All your gifts are at the house,” Sakura said dryly.

That got her moving well enough. Futaba hopped down from her seat, grabbed her curry, and bade them a good night before hurrying out. Sakura rubbed the back of his neck and came out from behind the counter. “Well, I’ll leave the rest to you,” he said, and gave Akira a quick pat on the shoulder. Both of their faces were starting to color. “Don’t forget to lock up. Nice to see you again, Okumura- _san_.”

“Have a good night!”

He was out the door almost before she had a chance to wish him farewell, coat and hat thrown over his arm. Despite him hurrying out, Haru still felt a small blush working up on her cheeks. “Thank you for coming with me tonight,” she said once they were alone. “I know it’s quaint, and it’s certainly not like it is for the cherry blossoms, but I do love going around and seeing the lights and decorations.”

Akira took her coat and slid it down her arms. “Good, I’m glad you had fun. It was nice.”

They drifted further into the café, toward the stairs, but sidetracked to the counter. Haru took Futaba’s empty seat while Akira went around the back and flicked the switch on the French press, pulling on his apron and draping it over his jacket. “Let’s see…here’s my blend.”

He took a brown, unmarked bag from beneath the counter and quickly whipped up a small batch, just enough for two cups. Akira lifted the carafe up over his head as he poured it to some applause, though he wasn’t as showy with his own serving when he saw the droplets he’d spilled on the counter. Haru took her cup and left it in her hands for a long moment, savoring the warmth to shake off the lingering cold from the street. “It smells delicious, thank you,” she said, and took a sip. Bitter, but not terribly so. Little touches of nutmeg and cinnamon, a hidden undertaste that took a minute to puzzle out. By the time she took another sip, the warmth was blooming through her body and making her fingers tingle pleasantly. “You should see if Sakura- _san_ would add this to the menu.”

“Oh, he doesn’t even know that I experiment with his beans. What would he call it, anyway? Probationer’s Special?” Akira asked. He started to chuckle to himself, but the grin died on his face and slipped back to his usual unreadability. Haru frowned. Usually he didn’t seem all that bothered by his legal limbo, even more so now that Shido had been dealt with. To hear it from Ann and Ryuji, he always acted quite unfettered by it, even earlier in the year. She laid her hand on his.

“Whatever he called it, I know it would be popular. I’d certainly like to have the recipe.” Haru ran her thumb across his knuckles, sliding over each ridge and returning to the start. “Shall we go upstairs?”

That perked him up well enough. Akira scrambled to clean their cups and the press before tossing his apron haphazardly over its hook on the wall. The third stair up to his room still creaked, despite his slapdash attempts at bracing it from the bottom, but once they had cleared it there was little but silence and the buzz of his lights after he turned them on. Both of them missed a beat when they looked at the empty cat bed on the table, but Haru only reached out and squeezed Akira’s hand before he guided her over to the couch. Ever the gentleman. Despite the caffeine starting to hit her, Haru leaned against him and yawned.

Something seemed…off, though she couldn’t precisely place it. Usually a quick yawn was all she had to do to make him suggest moving over to his bed. Now he was tense, closed off, and it was difficult to pass it off as the remains of his nerves from their incursion into Qliphoth. He hadn’t been so cagey in Shibuya, after all. “Something’s the matter.”

Akira’s response was to slowly stroke her hair and look at the floor in front of them. Haru tapped at his thigh to prompt him again, breaking him out of his reverie. “I…it’s nothing, really. One of the screens we passed at the station had some news program about Shido on, I guess it soured my mood. Sorry for letting it shine through like this.”

Anger bubbled up in her at the mention of that man, at the ways all of them had been wronged. She shook her head. “It doesn’t seem like we can get away from that, does it?” Haru’s hand tightened on Akira’s leg. “I suppose you’ve been following the media parade too, it keeps feeling like the police investigation is going to lead right back to us. To the Phantom Thieves. If that happens—will we not be able to see each other anymore?”

He grew quiet again, setting aside his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose and finally hold his head in his hands, fingers running into the locks of his hair. Haru shifted back from him on the couch. “What’s wrong?”

Another long moment strung between them. Akira turned to her and smiled, but it wasn’t a real smile, not the kind that reached up to his eyes. Something plastered over his true feelings to try and placate her. “I’m sorry. I got lost in thought for a moment.”

“Akira- _kun_ …please, don’t shut me out. I can tell you’re keeping something from me.” Haru reached out and took his hands in hers. “You can rely on me, you know?”

“I don’t want to make you panic,” he said softly.

“Stewing in worry doesn’t seem like an excellent alternative. What is it that you think you can’t share? Tell me.”

He took a long breath, bright gray eyes falling shut behind their lashes. And he told her. Everything Makoto’s sister had said about the investigation, about the risk of the authorities coming down on all of them if he didn’t fall on his sword to keep them safe. Haru sat there, speechless, tears welling at the corners of her eyes as she gripped his hands. When he was done and she leaned back, reeling as if she’d been struck in the gut, Akira reached for a tissue and carefully dabbed her tears away. “Should I…should I bother asking what you plan to do tomorrow?” Haru asked, her voice thick and choked.

“There’s no choice to make. I’ve already lost too much today—” Akira looked briefly at the empty cat bed across the room— “I can’t lose the others. I can’t lose you.”

She wanted to scream at the injustice of it all. After everything they had done, everything he had suffered through especially, his reward was to be clapped in irons and led away to some prison so that the truly guilty could be held to account. He had to leave their team riven to keep it from being destroyed completely. What kind of cruel fate could demand any more of him after today, Haru wondered. She reached up and cupped his face, running her thumbs over his cheekbones. “You won’t lose me. I’ll figure something out. No matter how long it takes.”

“Haru—”

“You made up your mind, didn’t you? I’m making up mine,” she said, putting an edge on her voice to keep him from arguing the point. Akira’s shoulders slumped, and Haru gently pulled him in against her, nestling his cheek in the crook of her shoulder. “But I suppose…this will probably be the last night we have together for quite some time, won’t it?”

“Seems that way.”

She stood up first, taking his hand in hers and leading him over to his bed. One of the coils squeaked as he came down on it. Haru pulled off her sweater and camisole, then unclasped her bra and let it slip down her arms while Akira watched, enraptured. “Then we really ought to make the most of it.”

His earlier reticence burned away without any more prompting. Akira was on her just as soon as they had discarded the rest of their clothes, pouncing and pinning her to the bed with a single easy movement. Haru arched her back under the kisses that trailed slowly down her body, guiding him on as he went lower, lower, lavishing attention all across her. By the time his tongue finally lashed across her clit she thought she might unravel then and there from all his attentions. She ran one hand into his hair and gripped the bedsheets with the other. Her legs settled over his shoulders, giving her enough leverage to rock her hips up against him. “Akira- _kun_ …”

As if he needed any guidance in sussing out all of her favorite spots, or finding a rhythm she liked. Two fingers swirled around her sex as his tongue continued its flitting dance, writing their names on her skin. Haru whimpered into the silence around them, carving everything into her memory—the push of his hand and his hair brushing on her thighs, his fingers pressing gently into her while his tongue worked ever faster, the look of his gaze from between her legs. She writhed under it all, losing her breath when his fingers curled upward and hit on a direly sensitive spot, until the burning pressure licking through her couldn’t be ignored any longer. Haru tapped Akira’s head a few times to get his attention, and her voice cracked on its way out. “P-put it in, please…”

He was only too happy to oblige. The loss of his fingers and his tongue when he shifted further up the bed was an awful kind of agony, but the press of his cock at her folds was swift consolation. Haru picked her head up and kissed him as he fumbled with lining himself up, tasting her own arousal on his lips—then fell back, powerless, when he sank into her. Haru’s lips parted in a breathless whine when he was buried up to the hilt, winding the pressure up tight once more. She wrapped one leg around his waist. Akira’s hands tightened in the sheets around her head once they began to move again, rocking in counter as each new thrust broke her over and over again.

“Right there, darling…right there…”

Haru’s voice trailed to incoherence. Another wave of tears blurred her vision, and Akira grew hazy atop her when he kissed her again—deep, bruising, trying to write a litany into her lips—and picked up his pace. The steady wind of pleasure in her followed his feverish rhythm, mounting unbearably when his thrusts became a frantic rut against her. Haru locked her arms around him and raked her nails down his back, making him shiver and twitch as he pushed into her one last time. The blinding rush of heat was enough to tip her over the edge, and Haru trembled underneath Akira, riding out her climax in the middle of his.

When they broke for air, Haru tugged lightly at his lower lip with her teeth and managed to draw out a short laugh. Anything to hold onto their carelessness a little longer. Akira’s spare nightclothes were too large for her, but they smelled like him and were soft enough. By the time they finally settled in under the sheets, Haru was well and truly exhausted, run down even more than she thought possible after their day. A lamppost in the alley outside slashed a bar of dim light across the bed, illuminating the room enough that she could see her boyfriend’s sleepless gaze staring dully at the empty space between them. Haru shuffled closer, twining their legs together, and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “I love you.”

His arms closing around her and keeping her close was all the response she needed.


End file.
